


A package in Red

by Wunjotheorc



Category: Shadowrun
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24099934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wunjotheorc/pseuds/Wunjotheorc
Summary: "Paris, 2076. The people growl in the streets, and the VIth Republic threatens to collapse. The president, Yohann de Kervelec, feels the noose tightening around him. The nobility wants his head for revealing the Cabal, the corporations want him out of the picture so they can have a free hand, and all his allies have abandoned him. Cornered, he tries one last move, which will plunge a group of shadowrunners into the turmoil that will take over France until 2080."So, last year I got my hands on Néo-Révolution, a french campaign book that came out with the french translation of Anarchy. This book is canon and gives a much-needed update to the french lore. As I was preparing the campaign for my players, I decided to do a fic on the side for my own characters. You can expect conspiracies, CFD, a trip to the SOX maybe, local critters (some awakened), and more.Shadowrun and Néo-Révolution belong to the copyright holders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	1. Tumultuous Rendez-vous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little drink on the job.

**Northern Suburbs, September 9, 2076**

_News flash! Demonstration at the gates of the Élysé!_

_Starting this morning from the Place de la Nation, the demonstrators passed Bastille and are now moving up the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. Estimated at one million by the organisers and 150,000 by the police, they have pushed beyond the authorised zone and are massing dangerously around the Elysée Palace. Our teams are on the scene to question the demonstrators._

_Walid is fifty-two years old. Like everyone around us, he wears a red "TRUTH" bandana on his forehead. Walid came equipped with a gas mask and body protections because he fears police repression, but he agreed to answer us:_

_"Hello Walid. Why are you demonstrating today?"_

_"Because I'm angry! Kervelec pretended to protect Angelique Rouge, but he lied to us and now she's missing. She's the only one resisting the corporations. She was our candidate, the people's candidate. He has to return Angelique to us."_

_"What do you think of the Élysée's deployment of Project Marianne?"_

_"I don't give a damn about Marianne! No one gives a damn. All we want is the truth about Angelique Rouge!"_

Wynn turns off the radio and puffs angrily. Angelique, Marianne, for them, it is all the same: nothing will change for the French population. Sitting in the passenger seat, Wynn looks at the AR map displayed on the windshield. They aren't too far from Sarcelles, and it is about time. Driving through Paris's ring-road feels like a nightmare with those fraggin' Parisians who can't drive for drek, but Ciara knows how to handle the minivan.

Wynn takes a look at the team's new rigger. She's an ork just like them, her hair black with striking blue roots, some piercings here and there, and beautiful brown eyes. Someone on the back seats clears his throat, and Wynn checks the rearview mirror only to see Thaler wiggling his eyebrows at them. The oni caught them staring at the rigger. Embarrassed, Wynn turns to the window for the rest of the ride.

* * *

When they finally arrive, dark clouds pouring acid rain greets them. Sarcelles, with its dirty century-old concrete buildings from the 1970s, is also known as 'the Zone', a place barely better than the barrens of Seattle. It is here that Paris has cast away all its darkness, anything that can taint the 'City of Light'. 

Ciara parks the minivan in a rundown street. From the safety of the vehicle, Wynn can see the meeting point on the other side of the road; a sordid and dilapidated old PMU. Through the large bay window tarnished by dirt, they notice, on the left, one of those emblematic zinc counter, almost an antique, and, on the right, tables covered with that timeless Vichy checkered tablecloth. The ork can't help but smile for a second. As a kid, they would spend all their pocket money in those bars to buy candies. 

As the team leaves the vehicle, they are assaulted by the stench of the street. Wasting no time, they quickly cross the road to take refuge in the bar. Wynn pushes the door and a bell rings.

Inside, the barman, an elf with a missing ear, ignores them as he cleans his cups. Above the counter is a trideo, silently projecting a continuous news channel. Wynn and the others ignore the elf back, focussing on the only customer of the establishment.

Sitting on a table way too small for him is most likely the team's contact: a massive troll, wearing a flawless white suit, out of place in the dirty establishment. He looks surprised when he sees them but quickly stands up to welcome the runners.

"Are you Susan's people?" he asks with a strong accent from Marseille while extending a hand.

Gabriel, the group's face, steps forward and shake his hand, her delicate elven fingers disappearing in the troll's claw.

"Madame Susan is always ready to help a friend in need," she replies, her voice smooth and sweet as ever. "I am Gabriel and here are my colleagues, Rune, Stag, Glitch and Ciara." She gestures to each one of them as she presents the group." We are at your service, sir."

He shakes his head, pleased. "I am your Johnson, Mario Soprano." Gesturing for them to sit at his table, he adds, "Would you like to have a little aperitif before we start talking business?"

The five runners glance at each other before nodding in agreement. After five hours of road, a glass would be nice.

Soprano calls the barman who serves them watered-down pastis with some peanuts. Wynn hates the yellow liquid, but as a courtesy, takes a sip after Soprano gives a toast. Gabriel seems to like the drink or at least pretends to. Thaler and Ciara both wince a bit, but it's Callum who spits it back in his glass. Far from being outraged, Soprano laughs, to the embarrassment of the satyr.

"Ah, don't worry, not everybody like anise. You aren't from France, right? Let me guess, Greece?"

"Okay listen, man. Just because I have hooves-"

"Mister Soprano," interrupts Gabriel with a smile as charming as ever, stopping Callum from starting an argument. "No offence, but we've come a long way to see you. Let's cut to the chase: what do you need from us?"

Soprano smiles, comprehensive. He starts to explain the job, but continuously deviates from the main subject, much to Gabriel's annoyance. The troll clearly isn't in a hurry. From what Wynn gather he wants them to do an extraction of some sort. At some point, Soprano talks about his grandmother's geraniums, and that's when Wynn completely drops out of the conversation. Their eyes go to the trid as images of the demonstrations in the capital scrolls in an endless loop. Things are starting to get pretty bad, and Wynn wouldn't be surprised if things turned into a full confrontation with the police. Looking back at the others, they see Callum chewing gum while typing on his commlink, uninterested in the conversation. Ciara's also scrolling on her commlink and Thaler… Drek, is he _sleeping?_

Feeling numb around the knees, Wynn stretches their legs but bumps into the wobbly table. One of the glasses falls over, spilling pastis, and suddenly everyone is wide awake, trying their best to wipe the table clean. Gabriel scowls at Wynn but resumes the conversation where it had been left off.

"So let me get this straight. You want us to get your guinea pig back from your now ex-wife, and we each get 3,000 nuyen for it? Did I understand you correctly?"

The troll nods and a long silence follows. A snort escapes Thaler who tries to cover it as a cough. Wynn's dumbfounded. They drove five hours across the country to get to Sarcelles because their boss said it was important, just to be told to fetch a _pet?_ Who the frag is that Soprano guy?

Gabriel leans back in her chair and takes a deep breath before speaking again. "Alright mister Soprano, we're... in. Where does your ex-wife live?"

The troll gives her the name of the street and describes the architecture of the house in great details. When Gabriel asks him to simply provide them with the street number, he apologises for not remembering it. Frustration starts to show on the elf's perfect face, and despite all the hatred Wynn has for her, they can't help but feel a bit of sympathy.

Suddenly, Soprano stops in the middle of a sentence, certainly looking at what must be an AR message.

"Change of plan," the troll says, now in a hurry. He's talking so fast that the runners all need to pay attention to follow. "A client of mine has just lost contact with, uh... let's say a 'carrier' not far from here. You have to go there to pick up the 'package'. The rest can wait. It's a last-minute job, so we'll double the agreed-upon salary. This is the last known position of the courier." He shows them a map on his comm, and Wynn guesses it's about 30 minutes away from their current location. "My client has your commlink numbers and will contact you shortly for delivery, but hurry, because-"

A bang and the bay window next to them shatter into pieces. Mario Soprano falls to the ground with a splash of blood.

Wynn's the first to react, flipping the table over to make some cover as they all scatter around. Fraggin' rookie mistake. _Never_ sit near a window, and that's what they've been doing for an hour! 

Wynn covers behind the table with Callum and Thaler. Gabriel's behind a pillar, her Onotari pistol in hand. She tries to locate the sniper's position, but a bullet bites the concrete above her head, forcing her to take cover. Ciara is hiding under another table not too far, and Wynn is startled when they see her yank one of her eyes out. The rigger throws it in the air, and the damn thing starts to fly. A drone. Her eye's a fraggin' drone. Wynn doesn't know if they should be relieved or disgusted.

"Got him!" says Ciara a few seconds later, her remaining eye closed. "He's on the tallest building across the street." Concentrated, she leans a bit, out of cover and Wynn fears she might get shot. "Wait. His packing up. He's leaving!"

Ciara hasn't even finished her sentence that Thaler's already on his feet, dashing across the street. Gabriels swears, puts her hood back on and runs after him. Wynn's about to follow, but Callum grabs them by the arm. He's got blood splattered across his face. He was right next to Soprano when the bullet went through the troll's head.

"Rune," says the boy, voice shaking from the shock. "Soprano's alive!"

Wynn looks more closely at the body on the ground and realises that yes, the Johnson's still breathing. Drek! The ork takes off their backpack, pulls out the medkit and shoves it in Callum's hands.

"Just follow the instructions, and the machine will do the rest. Ciara!" Wynn's yell startles the rigger but get's her attention. "Give him a hand!" And without waiting for an answer, the ork goes after their teammates.

Gabriel rushes after Thaler into the building, an abandoned city tower. Wynn ignores the entrance and hurries around the residence. This kind of building always has an emergency staircase at the back, and unless the sniper's a total dumbass, he won't be taking the elevator or the stairwell.

The ork skirts the building before jumping to reach the raised ladder. Wynn effortlessly hoists themself onto the metal platform. It creaks, and for a second the ork fears it's going to break from the sudden weight. It doesn't, and Wynn begins to climb the steps, looking up at every turn, on the lookout for the sniper. It's on the fifth floor that they hear footsteps coming from above. Wynn reaches out for their backpack and stops dead in their tracks. They left it with Callum.

The sniper gets to their floor, and when he sees Wynn, he pulls out a handgun and aims at the ork. Thaler breaks through the window next to them just as the man shoots.

Wynn feels the bullet graze their face. Thaler hits the man and throws him to the ground. The sniper tries to aim again, but the oni cuts off his hand with a swing of his axe before planting his dagger right into the man's chest. The fight's over, but Thaler raises his axe. Wynn grabs his arm before he kills their only source of information.

Reluctantly, Thaler gets off the sniper, hitting the man in the ribs with his foot as he does. 

"You're bleeding," says the oni while gesturing to his own face. "It's just a gash," he adds, pulling on his sleeve to wipe Wynn's cheek. 

It's well-intentioned, but the ork moves away, uncomfortable, just as Gabriel hurries through the smashed window, joining them on the emergency staircase. She lowers her weapon when she sees the sniper.

"Virosa," she says softly, and Wynn can't tell if it's a name or an insult.

The sniper's wheezing and starts to cough blood as he tries to grab the dagger still in his chest. The elf raises an eyebrow at Thaler, who just shrugs. Gabriel kneels next to the man, moves his hand away from the blade, and clutches his face, forcing him to look at her as her facial features changes. Thaler turns away, disgusted at the sight of the ceramic plates moving under Gabriel's skin. Wynn can't blame him. It _is_ disgusting to look at. The pretty round face of the elf becomes sharper. Her red hair lightens to blond, and her beautiful olive skin becomes a sickly white.

"You!" gasps the man as he recognises the elf before coughing again. "Had I known... I... I wouldn't-"

"Shut up," orders Gabriel, and she starts to search his pockets. "You'd have shot me first."

 _How unsurprising,_ Wynn thinks as they take the sniper's bag on the ground. They sit on a stair, and while they rummage through it, they hear Thaler asking the usual questions: _Who are you? Who sent you? What do you want from us?_ Of course, the sniper stays silent, but it's more a procedure than a real interrogatory. If Gabriel knows him, then she has all the information they need on him. 

There isn't much in the bag. A couple of gun magazines and a dismantled sniper rifle that Wynn doesn't recognise. Far from being a weapons connoisseur, they still identify one thing: the craftsmanship. There are no logo or signature on it, but that gun is definitely from Dassault's workshops. Wynn turns around to get another look at that 'Virosa' guy and the same goes for his clothes. From the stitchings on the ballistic vest to the zippers on his reinforced suit, Wynn can recognise the distinctive touch of Dassault Industries. The ork also knows what kind of cyberware the corporation 'gives' to their employees.

"Get the frag away from him!" yells the ork just as the man starts to scream, gripping his head with his remaining hand.

His cortex bomb goes off, and there's blood everywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed.


	2. Carnage in Cergy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where's the package? Here it is!

_NEWS FLASH! THE ÉLYSÉE COMES OUT OF HER SILENCE!_

_The Élysée announces the preparation of a new press release before dawn. The demonstrators have not left the capital, and the crowd in front of the presidential palace is more threatening than ever. Everything suggests that President Kervelec will finally speak about Angélique Rouge. Still, the spokesperson for the Elysée has not yet confirmed this. The people of Paris are not the only ones worried about the disappearance of Angélique Rouge. Unrest is spreading to the corporate world. Roger Dassault, CEO of Dassault, commented:_

_"It is not within Dassault's remit to dictate to the government of the Republic how to run the country. We respect the President's decisions, but we consider it necessary that this deleterious situation is quickly resolved."_

* * *

"I can't believe you wasted a medkit on him," scolds Gabriel while rummaging through her handbag. "That troll was just a fixer, not the client."

Wynn doesn't even bother to look at the elf. Soprano needed help and that Doc Wagon ambulance that passed them sirens blaring minutes ago would have been too late. 

Face covered in blood, Gabriel pulls out a pack of baby wipes with an ' _aha!_ ' of triumph and helps herself before passing it to Thaler sitting next to her. She and the oni didn't have time to move away from the sniper when he died. Even Wynn, who was a little further back, had received splatters of blood. Just thinking about what was left of the man gave them shivers of disgust. 

Sitting at the front of the minivan, Callum turns over in his seat to get a better look at the three runners and whistles. He is about to say one of his nasty jokes but stops when he sees how Wynn glares at him. _Don't._

"The backseats got bloodstains," he says instead, pointing out loud for Ciara, and the ork swears. The minivan is her's. "Guys, what the frag happened?"

"Cortex bomb. That sniper's head went 'splotch'," explains Thaler, words half-muffled as he rubs a baby wipe on his face, revealing the blue of his skin under all that gore. "Found one of his teeth in my mouth." 

"Ew, ew, ew!" The satyr winces and Wynn hold back a laugh. "Did you at least get some information from him before he, uh... "splotched'?"

Thaler shakes his head but turns to Gabriel, who is inspecting the front of her dress. The white garment is completely fragged up, just like her fake fur jacket. 

"That man was Virosa," she says before letting out a long sigh, getting used to the idea that her favourite outfit is ruined. She starts to undress, and Callum immediately turns away, ears red. "He was a well-known wetworker around Paris- drek! Stag? The zipper... Thank you. Yeah, I did some runs with him before he started to work exclusively for a corp a few years back. Dassault apparently, if Rune is right."

"Wait, so we're running against a corp? _Oh, for frag's sake_ ," Callum mutters. "Okay, tourist question: who's Dassault?"

There follows a silence punctuated by the sound of the windshield wipers. They exit Sarcelles, and the urban landscape is replaced by the abandoned fields of the countryside. Wynn is scratching dried blood off their chromed hands when they realize that the others are waiting for them to say something. Oh yeah, right. _I'm the only french in the team._ However, that does not make them a Michelin guide. And Wynn is pretty sure Gabriel knows more than them about that corp. The elf's 'regular' job, after all, is to gather information, and you don't need to stay long in the country to hear about Dassault. But she remains silent, concentrating on changing her outfit. Wynn puffs. _Fine!_

"Er, let's see... Dassault is the biggest corp in France. And the CEO thinks he owns the country, which isn't far from the truth. They work on, er, aerospace stuff... I think? Sorry, I mostly know them for the containment zone they operate around the Mist in Brittany."

"Isn't that the thing that swallowed a bunch of cities a while back?" ask Thaler and Wynn nods.

"Yep, exactly. I worked as a Mistwalker there, so I've run into Dassault's security more than once. I recognize their equipment when I see it. And every time we would catch one of those guards alive, their head would just explode."

"Nice way to treat your employees," comments Ciara grimly.

"In any case," Gabriel says, finishing to zip up her chameleon suit, "Virosa's target was Soprano, not us. And that whole 'save my hamster' run was bulldrek."

"He said guinea pig," corrects Thaler.

"Whatever. I'm pretty sure our client just wanted a team at the ready in case something happened to his package. That's why Soprano wasn't in a hurry." She starts to tie up her hair but pulls a chunk of flesh from it. With a grimace, she lowers her window and throws it out. "Luckily, our fixer told us where to go before Virosa geeked him. But if there's a corp involved we should expect armed forces on site." 

They spend the rest of the trip planning and preparing. With only Wynn and Gabriel with a decent firearm, they all vote to drop the run if things go south. While everyone is checking their gear, Wynn looks out the window just as they pass a 'Welcome to the commune of Cergy!' sign planted in the middle of a field. The ork visualizes the map of Paris and its surroundings in their head and realizes that they're dangerously close to the Toxic Valley and the Silent Forest.

A few minutes later, the sun has faded away, and the minivan arrives in a deserted town. Ciara turns off her vehicle's headlights to keep a low profile. Luckily, the lack of luminosity isn't a problem for trogs and elves. 

The population has long since abandoned the place. After all, pollution and awakened lands do not make for good neighbours. Cergy looks like an urban cemetery, where buildings left to the ravages of time crumble under the weight of vegetation turned wild again. Thaler mutters what Wynn assumes to be a prayer when the minivan passes next to a church whose roof is pierced by an oak tree.

"We're nearing."

Ciara slows down at a crossroad, turns right, and the team finds itself in front of a war zone.

There, in the middle of the road, two cars and a van, lights on. The causes of the loss of communications with the courier become clear: the van is overturned and riddled with bullet holes. Some areas are still burning from the detonation of grenades, and a large number of bodies lies scattered on the ground. Gabriel leans over between the front seats to get a better look with her cybernetic eyes. 

"A dozen men down. The attack is recent."

The rigger stops the minivan about 20 meters away from the scene, parking on the sidewalk to get cover from the surrounding buildings. Thaler closes his eyes and starts to mutter, searching for a spirit nearby to help but quickly shakes his head. They are on their own. 

Gabriel grabs a heavy-looking case from the trunk and activates the SmartLink of her rifle before exiting the vehicle, Wynn right behind her.

The elf tosses the case, and the thing unfolds midair, taking the shape of an attack dog. The drone lands on its feet and follows the runners under the rain. They move swiftly to the nearest car, Gabriel leading the way while Wynn, SMG in hands, watches over the elf's back. The driver of the vehicle is still in his seat, collapsed on the steering wheel. Gabriel pushes him aways to turn off the engine. There's no one else, the passengers probably among the men and women on the ground all around. While Gabriel searches the car, Wynn closes their eyes and concentrate on perceiving the astral world around them. But apart from the elf's damaged aura the rest of the world is grey. None of the bodies emits colours. _No survivors._

Gabriel passes Wynn a medkit she found, and they go to the second car. Same thing over there: engine still running, passengers and assailants on the ground. The attack was swift but brutal for both sides as neither seems to have gotten the upper hand. As they near the overturned van, the drone creeps through the smashed windshield and pulls out a body. Wynn tries not to look at what's left of the unlucky driver's face. 

Both runners circle the vehicle and lower their weapons when they see that the back doors are open. The van is empty. 

Gabriel swears and climbs into the vehicle for a search. While she does so, Wynn takes the time to examine the bodies that litter the ground a bit closer. Some are in camouflage suits, surely the attackers, and the brutality and effectiveness of the fight remind the ork of high trained units. _Private security? Ex-military?_ Wynn kneels next to a woman slumped on the ground against the van, her head at an unnatural angle. Her ballistic vest protected her from a hail of bullets, but not from the fall that broke her neck _._ In her hands not yet touched by rigor mortis is an assault rifle, the same that the army uses. Whoever her boss is, he's got access to good weaponry. _Vory?_ But none of them bears the emblematic tattoos. _Milieu marseillais?_ But they are too up north for that. 

"Who are you?"murmurs Wynn, but the woman remains silent, her dead eyes staring at the black sky.

The ork's thoughts are interrupted when Ciara's drone sits next to them. Wynn has the reflex to hold out a hand for it to sniff but the rigger's sweet laugh escapes from the drone's speakers, reminding the runner that it is not a real dog. The "dog" goes on its back as if to receive belly rubs and Wynn grunts, embarrassed.

When Gabriel exit the van, the weather gets worse and the two runners rush back to the minivan to get out of the rain.

"The package?" asks Ciara as soon that they close the door.

"Gone," replies Gabriel. She taps her chin for a moment before continuing. "But I don't think the attackers took it. At the very least, they probably would have taken the time to recover their deads. I think we should-" 

Wynn stops listening when they feel a chill run down their spine. _Something's wrong_. A glance at Thaler and the ork sees that he too has stopped listening. The oni reaches out a finger and sticks it on Gabriel's lips, shutting her. The elf gives him the big eyes, offended to be interrupted like that but goes still when she sees how serious he is. A green glow fills Thaler's black eyes while he stares absentmindedly at the seat in front of him, surely perceiving the astral world around them. Wynn is about to do the same when something lands heavily on the minivan's roof.

Blood starts running down with the rain on Gabriel's window and the elf backs away as best she can, ending up on Thaler and Wynn's lap.

A small cry escapes Ciara, and Callum immediately covers her mouth with his hand. She must have seen what is on the minivan through her drone still outside. The thing above them moves, it's feet clanking on the roof, and the weight disappears from the vehicle. The runners scramble to look through the windows to see an oversized red bird perch itself on the overturned van.

"Stag," his voice tightened by fear, Callum has to clear his throat. "What the frag is this drek?"

The bird isn't red but covered in blood. With its emaciated appearance and beak dripping with gore, there's no need to be a mage to understand that this thing is unnatural. Wynn has heard about them but refuses to belive their eyes until Thaler says it out loud.

"That's a blood spirit." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one gave me some trouble. I felt like there was too much dialogue for little action so I kept rewriting it again and again and again until I reached the final scene. I kept avoiding it because I had no idea how to introduce the red bird without doing a "hey look, over there!". In the end, I went with an attempt at """horror""" since blood spirits are supposed to be spoopy and all that. Anyway.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


End file.
